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Death And Panic Attacks

April 24, 2013
Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than exposure.
—Helen Keller

Since this week is going so well and I really should examine my panic attacks from an outside perspective I thought I’d do just that. the time it’s a worry about death and I think my worry about that subject comes from another place…not so death-related. More that I feel I just haven’t done enough with my life. I’d hate for it to end just suddenly and the lights go out without doing something. I’ve already been dead once at birth without having done something so I’d like not to repeat it. Truthfully the dying part wouldn’t bother me so much if I didn’t feel like I’d be forgotten in a week. But then I make no attempt to fix that.

Oh, this week I have. Not in big major ways, but in little ways that are building a solid foundation for me to build off of, however, that stuff takes time and meanwhile I’m still sort of in my funk. I have been panic attack free since deciding to endeavor on this course of PT, therapy, and going to the gym again. That stuff has been helping and I worry if it’s enough momentum to get by. On the panic end I haven’t really felt it as often as I did a few weeks ago. It’s surprising: when you don’t think about shit too much you tend not to go all panicky. Mystery solved, Scoobs.

I’m not quite so lucky in that regard because I can still overthink things and then get all panicky as a result and then I think about the stuff I haven’t done and fuck, what am I doing with my life? Is this it or the end? And when the end doesn’t come I just feel really embarrassed–mostly because I acted that way. I know this is a bit of a retread and I apologize to those who’ve read the original. But these kind of thoughts do repeat themselves quite often.

My mother seems to think these various intense bouts of my fear of dying while my heart is racing are a sign that I need god in my life. ‘ehh….no. I just hate that I haven’t done much and haven’t done more. I don’t have my career going the way I want, I don’t have a successful relationship, I don’t even own my own place. So what is there that really stands out for me? I’m a nice guy? I don’t even think I’m that nice. Sure, by some objective standard I would be what would be considered ‘nice’. And even that’s become a bit of an insult for me. I know trivial facts. I…can occasionally make people laugh. When they’re around. Which for the last year I’ve seen my friends 1.5 times. Soo…not too many people laughing these days from me.

I don’t mean to make it sound like a pity party, because it honestly isn’t. It’s more frustration and thoughts that crop up more often than I care for them to. So, no, it’s not because I need some magical deity in my life telling me what to do and how to act and that I’m a good person. I need to fucking move on….to…something. Obviously where I’m at now is not helping. Also the fact that I can realistically avoid every problem in my life just by doing nothing doesn’t help me either. Nor does the unhealthy addiction to being online and that only exists because I’m so lonely most of the time that having an imaginary friend seems more and more like a good idea if it wasn’t so fecking nuts.

That’s why I’m kind of in a really content place right now and everything seems to be clicking so well that the part of my mind is telling me that sooner or later it won’t. And then what?

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